28 The Song of the End (3)

Bichun had been called away for some unknown reason, leaving Jiang Xiaoman alone in the room to take her medicine.

She had thought the medicinal decoction bitter enough, but the pill was far worse, carrying an unpleasant, foul stench. The ideas of this Second Young Master Ling were truly bizarre; he had actually concocted an internal medicine from topical frost-dew. No wonder it smelled like rotting sour radishes.

Just as she prepared to take another sip, a familiar voice called out from outside:

"Xiaoman!"

The door was pushed open, and she gave such a start that she sprayed the medicine everywhere. The voice was one she could not possibly mistake.

"E-Eldest Senior Brother!?"

She looked at the visitor. He appeared to be around thirty, with willow-leaf eyebrows, a gentle and radiant expression, a nose like carved jade, and eyes like shimmering stars. He wore a long black robe, with a jade flute tucked into his waistband—a piece as warm and translucent as the man himself. This was Mo Lian, known as the "Gentleman of the Phoenix Flute," the first disciple taken in by Jiang Qingzhu since he assumed the position of Sect Master.

Mo Lian walked straight toward her. Jiang Xiaoman scrambled up, frightened; she assumed he was furious. Her Eldest Senior Brother often appeared mild-mannered when he was actually seething with rage. She quickly set down the medicine and waved her hands frantically. "I can... explain!"

"Don't speak."

Mo Lian raised a hand to silence her. He walked up and simply touched her forehead, then used his spiritual energy to probe the acupoints on her head and neck before letting out a long sigh of relief. "It is good that you are unharmed."

While Jiang Xiaoman was still bewildered, footsteps echoed from outside, and several people burst through the door.

The gaunt Qin Yunzhao said, "Xiaoman, what kind of medicine did you give us? It was so potent that my head is still spinning."

The portly Wang Zheng added, "Why did you run off to Yangzhou—no, why did you run off to this godforsaken place!?"

The round-faced Senior Sister Qi Yin whispered, "Hush! Keep your voices down, Junior Sister Xiaoman is still resting."

Mo Lian smiled. "The group of them searched for days without finding you. As it happened, I was nearby on a mission, so they had no choice but to come find me." Before he finished speaking, he noticed something was wrong. "What is it, Xiaoman? Are you in pain?"

*Wuwuwu—*

Jiang Xiaoman could no longer suppress the sorrow in her heart. Tears surged like a bursting dam, and she instantly became a sobbing mess.

"Yue'er... she's gone..."

Hearing her uncontrollable sobs, Mo Lian remained silent, gently patting her back to comfort her. Qi Yin went over and hugged her tightly; Jiang Xiaoman leaned into her senior sister, crying even harder.

What she really wanted to say was: *I almost thought I would never see you all again.*

***

Mo Lian spoke with the three disciples for a moment. When he had encountered the Ling family disciples in the city, he had been frantic with worry and had rushed over without ceremony, leaving the three junior disciples to exchange pleasantries. Only after they had spoken in detail with the steward did they learn that the great demon had escaped and that there was no longer a need to set up the Red Cloud Sword Formation at the manor. Mo Lian had breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing this.

Qin Yunzhao told Jiang Xiaoman, "We ran into people from Yue Mountain in the city. They said they were coming up the mountain to set up the Red Cloud Sword Formation, which is no small feat. Combined with what we had heard about you coming to the manor, we were terrified."

Qi Yin said, "Indeed. However, we heard that the 'Mad Shadow Blade' had originally suggested setting the formation immediately, and it was only after Second Young Master Ling’s persistent persuasion that he agreed to give him seven days. That Second Young Master Ling is quite bold, entering this manor single-handedly to slay the demon."

Wang Zheng said indignantly, "He may be bold, but he shouldn't have lured our Xiaoman into this! If anything had happened to her, by the gods, we would have razed Yue Mountain to the ground!"

Jiang Xiaoman waved her hands repeatedly. "No, no..."

It was she who had insisted on following him. Hearing what her senior brothers and sister said, her head buzzed, and she felt a sense of shock. She had assumed Ling Sichen was willing to sacrifice the villagers of the entire manor to destroy the "Ghost Sound." She never expected that he had actively fought for time to allow them to live.

Jiang Xiaoman sat stunned for a long time, then began to feel restless. She had to apologize to him; she had misunderstood him. She also had to thank him. If he hadn't chosen to save her instead of pursuing the demon, she would surely have...

Wait, where was he? Where was he now?

He had said he was going out to scout the situation earlier. He wouldn't have gone to chase the Ghost Sound, would he? Was he in danger?

Jiang Xiaoman rolled out of bed but stumbled, nearly falling. Fortunately, Mo Lian caught her. She realized her legs were weak from lying down for so long, and with her spiritual energy almost completely drained, her limbs were temporarily uncooperative.

Mo Lian said softly, "Xiaoman, you have internal injuries. Please, lie down for a while longer."

"No," she said, trembling, her words fragmented. "I... must... find him..."

"Find who?" Wang Zheng started to ask, but was cut off by a slap from Qi Yin.

Mo Lian and Qin Yunzhao exchanged a glance. Ultimately, they could not refuse her, and Qi Yin supported her as they left the room.

The ruined courtyard walls were being rebuilt. Servants were busy, carrying bricks and wood, hurrying back and forth along the path leading from the back mountain. Everyone was covered in mud and drenched in sweat.

They hadn't walked far when they happened upon Bichun. Mo Lian stepped forward to ask a few questions. As Jiang Xiaoman watched him, his expression grew increasingly grave, and a bad premonition rose in her heart.

After they finished talking, Bichun took her leave toward the back mountain, and Mo Lian turned back.

Jiang Xiaoman was clearly anxious. Mo Lian looked at her and said, "Young Master Ling and his companions have already left."

"Left!?" Wang Zheng stared in disbelief.

*Left?* Jiang Xiaoman’s mind felt hazy; the world suddenly fell silent.

Mo Lian nodded. "They left in a hurry. Perhaps something happened at Yue Mountain."

"Huh? Just a moment ago those two looked so carefree, it didn't seem like anything was wrong," Wang Zheng interjected.

"I am not sure. But Young Master Ling only just departed. He even took the ox cart from the front gate with him; it must have been a pressing matter."

Jiang Xiaoman found her mind growing more chaotic, and she barely heard the last few words Mo Lian spoke. She clenched her fists involuntarily.

He hadn't even said goodbye to her.

Did he think that by giving her the Demon Pill, they were finished? But in truth, hadn't the Demon Pill been her goal from the very beginning?

Yet, why did she feel so empty inside?

***

Later, when Jiang Xiaoman had recovered enough, the group went to the main hall to bid farewell to the old mistress of the Cen family.

The old mistress looked to be in good spirits, and the spots and scales on her neck had completely healed.

Before long, Cen Lan ran in. It seemed she had just finished working on the back mountain, as her cheeks were still smudged with mud. She didn't seem to mind at all, not acting like a sheltered young lady of a wealthy family in the slightest.

She held Jiang Xiaoman’s hand tightly, reluctant to part. "Are you leaving?"

Jiang Xiaoman nodded, equally saddened. She saw Cen Lan beckon a maid to bring over the zither wrapped in silk, her movements suggesting she intended to give it to them.

Mo Lian frowned and stepped forward to accept it, but was suddenly interrupted by Jiang Xiaoman. Without waiting for Cen Lan to speak, she waved her hands frantically. "No, no, no!"

Given her aunt’s personality, there was no way she would take back something she had already given away!

They remained at an impasse for a moment. Finally, Cen Lan relented. After a silent pause, she reached back, untied the jade pendant from the end of the zither, pulled Jiang Xiaoman’s hand over, and pressed it into her palm.

"You sought nothing, yet were willing to give your all to help us. My father could offer you nothing, so I only hope this token brings you comfort."

Jiang Xiaoman did not refuse again and accepted the jade pendant.

***

Before leaving, Jiang Xiaoman felt there was one thing left undone.

After thinking for a long time, she went to Mo Lian, held out her hand, and made a few humming noises.

Mo Lian, understanding her perfectly, skillfully produced a sheet of paper and a brush from his robes.

The other three thought: *As expected of the Eldest Senior Brother, always so well-prepared!*

Jiang Xiaoman took them nimbly, leaned over a desk, and began to write furiously. The old mistress and the steward, filled with curiosity, leaned in to watch.

She finished quickly and handed the paper, covered in writing, to the old mistress.

The old mistress read it carefully. Her expression shifted from confusion to gravity, and finally, it settled into a gentle, affectionate smile.

She laughed softly. "You two are truly interesting. The divine doctor... no, that immortal youth also asked me for the same thing."

As she finished, her smile faded. She fell silent for a moment, then let out a long, wistful sigh.

The old mistress spoke as if to herself. "I married him at eighteen, following my parents' orders. I always knew that while we had the reality of marriage, there was never any affection between us."

"He never loved me, but he never treated me poorly either. He listened to my every word and cared for me deeply. Whenever we argued, I was the one who gave the cold shoulder; I was the one who was always being unreasonable. He never left my side his entire life, yet even after he passed, I remained imprisoned by the heart I thought I could never win."

Wang Zheng, likely not understanding, opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by a "hush" from Mo Lian.

The old mistress paused and turned her gaze toward Cen Lan. "The lives of Lan'er and Qiu'er were also planned by my stubbornness. He had opposed Zhou Yuan marrying into our family, but in the end, he deferred to me, leading to the tragedy we have now. Lan'er, do you hate me?"

Cen Lan had already wiped away tears several times. She walked silently to her mother’s side and held her hand tightly. Though no words were spoken, it seemed that all regrets had finally been laid to rest.

"Enough. It is time to let go of this past." The old mistress looked at her daughter, her eyes sparkling with renewed spirit. "Since both of you immortals have spoken, if Lan'er wishes, she may go to the ends of the earth, and I will never stand in her way again."

Jiang Xiaoman was overjoyed. She asked Mo Lian for another sheet of paper and began to write again.

This time, she gave the paper to Cen Lan.

*[Lan: I will return home and secure an opportunity for you to take the entrance examination. Do not give up. With your spiritual talent and your skill on the zither, passing the exam will be effortless. In February of next year, I will wait for your arrival in Touzhou.]*

February—the month for the Jiang family's annual entrance examinations.

Cen Lan read it and finally broke into a tearful smile, her laughter choked by sobs. A thousand words remained, but the tears stayed in her throat.

She nodded. "Yes."

***

Steward Zeng saw them off.

After the final bows and farewells, the steward stood as a hunched shadow, holding a flask of warm wine, watching as the five immortals took flight into the sky.

"The two of them rid the manor of demons and healed the mistress's chronic illness with their pills. Now that I think about it, it is deeply ironic that we shunned the immortals and stayed mired in our old ways for so many years, only to be saved by them in the end. A debt of gratitude so great, our small manor has nothing with which to repay it."

He murmured to himself, poured the wine into the air, and sang aloud:

*The Immortal Lord treads upon the moon, fragrant plum blossoms fall like snow.*
*The knight plucks his sword, the demon’s shadow weeps blood.*
*The plain zither longs to play, the ties of this world are hard to sever.*
*We drink the murky wine together, until what month shall we meet again!*

*Farewell, travelers!*

(End of Plum Snow Manor)